A few days had passed since Meixuan and her family returned home, and with Jet's father away on business, it was just him and his mother left in the house. Yet, despite the quiet, Jet couldn't find a moment of peace.
His mother had ordered the servants to shadow him wherever he went, as if he were some dignitary under watch. No matter how often he asked them to leave him alone, they remained, ever-present, monitoring his every move. Frustrated, he'd even tried dashing from room to room, hoping to shake them off, but they remained steadfast, following him with quiet, watchful steps.
Finally, Jet escaped to the family pavilion, hoping to find some respite by the lake. He sank onto one of the benches, gazing out at the water, but he could still feel their eyes on him, hovering just a few paces back.
With a sigh, Jet cast a glance over his shoulder at the servants, who seemed ready to step in and offer him comfort, even though they were the very cause of his unease.
Jet leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared out at the water, feeling like a caged bird. The pavilion, usually a place of peace, now felt like a gilded prison. The servants behind him shifted awkwardly, glancing at each other, unsure whether they should offer comfort or keep their distance.
One of the younger servants finally cleared her throat and took a step forward. "Young Master, is there anything you would like? Tea, perhaps?"
Jet exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "No, thank you," he said, his tone firmer than usual. He didn't mean to sound curt, but he was desperate for a moment of solitude, a moment to feel like himself without every move being watched and reported back.
His eyes drifted over the ripples on the lake, and he found himself thinking about Han. Their quiet conversations, the calm confidence that Han seemed to carry—it was a stark contrast to the rigid, watchful environment around him now. Jet wondered what Han would do in his situation, how he would find a way to slip through this invisible net.
Jet stood up, dusting off his robes. The servants immediately straightened, alert to his movement. "I'll be going to my chambers to rest," he sighed. "Please don't disturb me."
The servants exchanged uncertain glances, but after a moment, they nodded and stepped back. Jet walked briskly back to the house, keeping his pace steady until he reached the upstairs hall leading to his room. Night had fallen swiftly, and the house was quiet and still. After having dinner with his mother, he settled onto his bed, a lone candle flickering nearby.
He opened his window slightly, letting the cool night air drift in, adding to the calm. Without the servants in the room, it felt more peaceful, yet he could hear them whispering and pacing softly outside his door, their shadows shifting in the hall. They were anxious, assuming the lit candle meant he might try to slip out if they left him unattended.
When he finally blew out the candle, the footsteps faded one by one, until silence blanketed the entire house. Jet waited a few more moments, ensuring they'd truly gone. When all was still, he eased himself out of bed and opened his door silently, peering out. Nothing.
He slipped downstairs, heading to his private study. The small building sat quietly on the water's edge, apart from the main house. The secluded spot always made him feel grateful—it was a space all his own, away from the watchful eyes of his family and the servants.
Inside, he lit a candle, arranged his brush and ink, and opened his writing journal. He began to write, losing himself in the flow of the words. For a few minutes, his characters' dialogue filled the page, until he paused, feeling uncertain at one line.
"A friend?" he murmured aloud in the imagined tone of one of his characters.
"Yes, I made a friend," he replied softly, as though he were the other.
A small chuckle escaped him. It was silly, but writing gave him a sense of freedom to express things he often left unspoken. As he wrote, he began to drift back to his recent conversation with his mother. He looked down at his paper and wrote a line he wished she might say someday:
"I'm proud of you."
With that, he continued his writing for nearly an hour, the ink flowing onto the page in steady strokes. Finally, feeling the weight of the day settle over him, he capped his ink and blew out the candle. Jet returned to the main house, slipping silently through the halls to his room, ready to finally rest.
—-
"Young master, there's someone outside to see you."
Jet looked up from his book at the servant, his expression a mix of curiosity and annoyance. It had been a week since his last escape to his study, and he still hadn't been allowed outside. His mother's watchful eyes followed his every move, and the servants were like shadows, always present, always waiting.
Jet stood and followed the servant outside. As he stepped into the front yard, he saw a familiar face, standing by the gate. A soft smile tugged at her lips as she noticed him.
"Remember me?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with recognition.
"Bao?" Jet's voice cracked with surprise. "Is that really you?" He took a few steps closer, a grin forming on his face. "How long has it been?"
—-
Liang Bao, a 19-year-old Beta, stood before him, a little older but still unmistakably the girl Jet used to play with when he was younger. She was one of the many children he had lost contact with after his family realised Jet was an Omega, and locked him in from the outside world. Now, here she was, right in front of him, a blast from the past.
—-
A servant hovered nearby, unsure of the situation. Bao waved her hand, dismissing the servant with a polite gesture.
"Let's catch up, shall we?" Bao grinned, her tone easy and familiar. "How have you been? Still not married yet?"
"Not yet, but soon enough, it seems," Jet replied, his voice light, though there was a hint of something more behind his words. "And you? Any suitors?"
Bao laughed, shaking her head. "Not yet either. My parents keep telling me to wait a little longer, which, honestly, is fine by me."
Jet chuckled, nodding. He had never been in a rush to settle down, but his mother's persistent pressure weighed on him. He was about to invite her in when she spoke up first.
"Let's go out for tea. What do you say?" Bao suggested with a mischievous glint in her eye before she whispered. "I'm going to get you out of here, even if it's just for a few hours."